


Caffeine Boy

by sixtysevenlmpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Batcave, Domestic, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Rimming, Season/Series 08, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/pseuds/sixtysevenlmpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the anonymous prompt: "Set in season 8 took place in the Batcave- Sam spending waaaaay too much time on researching for the trials and refuses to get enough sleep cuz he's afraid he'll put Dean in danger again by failing and finally Dean snapped and dragged Sam onto bed and demand him to lay there and enjoy it and proceed to exhaust him with lots of sex so Sam would sleep."<br/>Literally just sleepy!bottom!Sam memory foam mattress porn. Originally posted on <a href="http://sixtysevenlmpala.tumblr.com/post/48524484537/sam-took-another-long-gulp-of-his-coffee-it">tumblr</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caffeine Boy

Sam took another long gulp of his coffee. It wasn’t hot anymore. He didn’t notice.

He was hunched over the desk in the Batcave’s study, one hand raking restlessly through his hair as he stared at the books and papers spread out across the surface in front of him. The words he was trying to read blurred into nothingness on the page. He couldn’t remember exactly _how_ long he’d been at this – a few days, probably, but it felt like years – all he knew was that he was on his sixteenth cup of coffee of the day and he was pretty sure it wasn’t even evening yet. He’d sat here through the night, through the wafting aromas of Dean making breakfast, Dean making lunch, and still he hadn’t fucking _achieved_ anything.

But he refused to give up. This was _his_ job, _his_ burden, and he couldn’t fail. He couldn’t do that to himself, or more importantly, to Dean.

He was snapped out of his muddled thoughts when two hands clamped down on his shoulders and a stern, deep voice above him said, “Sammy.”

Sam jolted in his seat, looked up and blinked tired eyes at his brother. “Dean, seriously. I need to work.”

“No. No, you don’t,” Dean interrupted. “You’ve been ‘working’ days on end, Sam – you ain’t even been _sleeping_ , you asshat, you think I don’t notice? You can’t crack this shit running on caffeine alone, alright?”

“I don’t need beauty sleep,” Sam scoffed quietly, irritably. “I need to research. I need to be prepared.” He lowered his head again, dropping his eyes from Dean’s, and Dean rolled his.

“Screw this,” Dean muttered, and slipped his hands under Sam’s arms, hauling him up out of the chair.

“What the f—“

“Shut up,” Dean interrupted, his tone edged with warning as he dragged Sam out of the study and down the hall to Dean’s bedroom. By the time he’d thrown Sam down onto the memory foam, he was still going on about how he had _so much to do, Dean, seriously, I don’t have time to mess around_ , blah blah blah. Dean’s response was to crawl over him and kiss him, warm and passionate; but Sam was still _talking_ , mumbling against Dean’s lips and into Dean’s mouth about the trials and how important this is, how Dean just didn’t understand. Dean pulled back and glared. “Will you just shut up and kiss me back? _Jesus_.”

So Sam did. His mind was still full of the trials, cogs still whirring so fast he was pretty sure smoke should be coming out of his ears, but Dean was hovering over him, kissing him all slow and patient and calming, and just as Sam thought it might actually be working, he blurted out, “I mean, what do _you_ think the third one could be?” Dean let out a frustrated groan into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Like, it must be something pretty huge, right—“ and Dean huffed out a long-suffering sigh and ripped Sam’s soft plaid shirt right open, buttons popping everywhere.

“Forget about it,” Dean ordered, his voice low and quiet as he trailed his mouth down Sam’s neck. “Just.” A nip to his throat. “Shut.” A bite at his collarbone. “Up.” His shoulder. “Right.” His chest. “Now.” And Dean circled his tongue around his nipple, teasing it with his teeth.

“Christ,” Sam gasped, mouth falling open as he stared wide-eyed at Dean. “What happened to sleep?”

“You really telling me if I just left you here you’d sleep, caffeine boy?” Sam shrugged without a word, and Dean replied, “Exactly. So maybe I gotta tire you out first.”

“Oh,” Sam mumbled, dumbstruck. By the time his sleep-deprived brain had managed to catch up with the proceedings, Dean had already unzipped his jeans, pulled them off his legs and wrapped his mouth around his cock. Sam moaned, hips jerking up, and Dean just adjusted his throat and took it like he always could. Dean’s pretty, plump lips looked like sin stretched around him, and Sam tried, he tried so hard to concentrate on Dean’s tight, hot mouth and the way his eyes glittered when he looked up to meet Sam’s gaze, but he still couldn’t help babbling, “Dean, this is—we can’t just, okay, I need to—oh _fuck_ —Dean, the _trials_ ,” and Dean full-on growled around Sam’s cock, the vibration of it chasing up his spine and making his head spin.

Pulling off, Dean muttered in a rough voice, “Kinda insulting that you’re not losing your mind right about now, Sammy,” a half-smirk tugging at his glistening-wet lips.

“I’m sorry,” Sam mumbled, “I just—“ but he never finished the sentence, never even remembered what he was going to say, because the next thing he knew Dean had his hands behind Sam’s knees, pushing his legs up to expose him, and dragged his tongue down his cock, over his balls and downdowndown until he reached his hole. Sam whined, his fingers curling in the sheets as Dean chuckled, hot breath washing out over the sensitive skin.

Sam fucking _loved_ this, always had, and what made it even better with Dean was that Dean was so into it, too. Oh, he held back at first, teasing Sam with tiny kitten licks around his rim, letting his teeth catch a little just to hear Sam suck in a hissing breath. He liked to drag his tongue so slowly up the cleft of Sam’s ass, right up until he reached his balls, because it made Sam squirm, his hips writhing as he tried to follow Dean’s tongue and get him where he wanted him most.

Sam could feel his brain unravelling, couldn’t quite remember what he’d even been so stressed about – all he could focus on was the maddening touches of Dean’s tongue as he flicked the tip of it up Sam’s thigh, around his hole and down the other one. Eventually, he spread his legs wider and gritted out, “ _Dean_ ,” and that’s when his older brother let himself break.

Because Dean loved this just as much as Sam, and yeah, this was for Sam, to get him to relax, of course it was, but he couldn’t help but indulge himself, burying his face between Sam’s thighs and screwing his tongue into him as far as physically possible. Sam arched off the bed, breaths coming short and fast and all his senses zeroing in on this one thing – Dean, and nothing else. Dean licked at him sloppy and messy, fingers digging into the meat of Sam’s thighs where he was holding him open, and Sam could feel himself opening up as Dean’s tongue stretched him out, got him all wide and wet.

Just like that, sudden as anything, Sam felt his cock throb almost achingly, and he forced his eyes open, clumsy hand petting at Dean’s head as he panted, “I-I can’t—I’m gonna.”

“S’okay,” is all Dean replied, mouth still working at Sam’s hole, and Sam cursed under his breath and bucked his hips violently, grinding against Dean’s face as he came over his own stomach, cock swollen and untouched. “Fuck, Sammy, that’s it,” Dean murmured in a hushed tone, kissing Sam’s thighs as he came down.

Sam was trembling with the aftershocks, cock softening where it lay on his stomach, but as Dean looked down at him he noticed that he still looked tense, still had that highly-strung bunch to his shoulders and the creases between his eyebrows. He frowned and, to gauge Sam’s reaction, he reached down to slip two thick fingers into Sam’s slick hole. Sam whimpered and immediately rolled his hips to get them in deeper, needy, incoherent noises spilling from his lips, and that was enough for Dean.

“S’okay, gonna take care of you,” Dean muttered as he reached over to grab the lube from his bedside table, slicked himself up. It’d been a while since they’d used condoms – no need for them – and with Sam already pretty stretched from Dean’s mouth and his tongue, Dean didn’t waste much time, hauling Sam’s legs up again and pushing his knees up to his chest. Flexible little fucker was practically bent in half, but Dean knew it was easy for him, so he just lined himself up and pushed inside in steady, short thrusts, punching the breath out of Sam with each one.

Sam tossed his head on the pillow, mouth dropping open wide when Dean bottomed out, and Dean grinned wolfishly down at him as he immediately started snapping his hips, setting a quick, even rhythm that Sam had no hope of keeping up with in his already fucked-out state. The jerks of Dean’s hips were brutal, and Sam couldn’t get enough of it, eyes rolling back in his head. It felt like Dean was pushing deeper every time, even though he knew it was impossible, and the hypersensitivity of all his nerve endings meant that Dean’s cock felt so much bigger than usual, so much more of a stretch. He couldn’t even speak, just met Dean’s thrusts as best he could and gave himself over to the pleasure of it.

So Dean fucked him into the freakin’ memory foam, Sam pliant and loose-limbed from his orgasm, and when Dean muttered, “Hold onto the headboard,” he did so instantly. Eventually, it was as if Sam didn’t even have the energy to moan properly, just broken little whimpers and whispers of “Please, Dean, more, harder.”

Dean obliged every time, and when he found what he was pretty sure to be Sam’s prostate, he murmured, “There?” and Sam _keened_ , so he kept it up, nailing the same spot until Sam’s grip turned white-knuckled on the bars of the headboard and his whole body jerked as he came untouched for a second time. He collapsed onto the bed, looking utterly debauched with his sex hair and his flushed cheeks, lips swollen from biting on them, and Dean fucked him through it, ruthlessly carried on for a minute or so more before finishing inside of him.

After a second or two, Dean pulled out carefully and crawled up Sam’s splayed-out body, kissed his forehead, his closed eyelids, his cheeks, the tip of his nose.

“Better?” Dean asked softly, peering into his face. Sam nodded, mumbling something affirmative. “Good. You can get back on it tomorrow, alright? Today you’re gonna get some rest.” He carded a hand through the tangles of Sam’s hair and then climbed off of Sam, making to leave.

A muzzy, slurred, “No,” was what stopped him, and when Dean turned from his perch on the edge of the bed, Sam was making sleepy grabby hands at him. Dean bit his cheek to stop himself from smiling like the biggest girl ever and lay down next to his brother, curling himself around him and mumbling, “Okay, Sammy. Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, feel free to leave a comment/kudos if you liked!


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